


I Fuckin' Love You

by teenuviel1227



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, old past Jaepil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24130582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenuviel1227/pseuds/teenuviel1227
Summary: They’re bestfriends and it’s the slowest fuckin’ burn.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Comments: 90
Kudos: 138





	1. I Was A Player, That Was The Old Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Ao3. Been a while. :) 
> 
> Twt: @teenuviel1227  
> Title is from the most beautiful cover in the world: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TILFGfOdq2E
> 
> This is going to be a slow burn. Expect a chapter or two daily.

Brian isn’t really sure when it hits, but he knows sure as hell that  _ something’s _ hit. Case in point: tonight, instead of going home with the hot girl who was practically dancing in his lap or the hot guy who slipped him a joint before skimming the underside of his wrist with a tender, tingling finger back at the bar, he’s propping a drunk Jae up, dragging him down Itaewon’s main avenue while also trying (with difficulty) to hail a cab. And also it’s snowing. And also he has no idea where he’s left his cellphone. And also Jae’s tall frame is draped over Brian’s shoulders, Jae’s breath warm against his cheek. Brian sighs as he shifts, taking a step closer to the sidewalk from the Taxi Stop and Jae swings forward, the softness of his lips brushing against the curve of Brian’s jaw. He feels a strange jump in the pit of his stomach--something he’s been feeling way too much for comfort lately. 

Brian smiles softly, brushing Jae’s hair back tenderly. There’s snow on Jae’s eyelashes, on the soft contour of his cheeks. His hair is a blonde blur, a smudge on the snow-covered landscape of him. Brian sighs, grins sadly as he watches the light prism as it hits a snowflake. 

“What am I going to do with you?” 

A cab comes to a halt in front of them and Brian opens the door, carefully scoops Jae into the backseat as carefully as he can, gathering his long arms, legs, and putting a hand protectively on top of his head to make sure that he doesn’t hit the top of the cab’s doorway before climbing in himself. 

“Gangnam,” he tells the driver, trying to ignore the way that Jae tugs at his arm, waking just long enough to snuggle himself into the crook of Brian’s arm, his head cradled between Brian’s shoulder and the backseat. The driver nods, puts on an old song, and starts the meter. 

  
  


Jae wakes up feeling like he’s the mattress in a commercial where an elephant does its best to stomp the memory foam out of existence except the elephant is three bottles of Tequila. And speaking of memory—he has almost none of last night. Only the feeling of hot liquid pouring down his throat and the feeling of bodies slick against his own, grinding in the thick atmosphere of the club, hands reaching for him. The rest is blinding light and the vision of a beautiful girl: long legs, dark hair cut to her chin in a stylish bob pulling Brian in by the collar as she sat herself in his lap. Brian’s bewildered eyes, that slow smile. And the rest of the tequila. And then nothing. 

He lets out a sigh, shifting in bed so he’s lying face down, the pillow obscuring his vision. That’s the thing isn’t it? The real problem. Brian Kang. Jae pulls the duvet around him and closes his eyes, remembering the way that Brian looks silhouetted against--well, if he’s being honest, anything. A sunset, a train pulling the Han river by like blue film, the city lights, the sky cut-out by the window of a plane. Whenever he thinks about Brian this is how he encapsulates him: a beautiful silhouette, a comfort even just in the shape of him, in the being there, in the knowing he’s there at the periphery of things. 

And that’s the real problem isn’t it? He thinks to himself, bringing a hand up to his chest as though to soothe ache that sits there: little sparrow, calm yourself. 

The real problem is that he’s in love with Brian and he shouldn’t be. 

There’s a knock on the door and Jae almost falls out of bed in surprise. 

There’s a bold, bright laugh that he would know anywhere. He sits up in bed, the duvet falling off of him. 

Brian pushes the door open and pushes in a small tray that Jae had forgotten he even had. It’s made of intricately carved white wood and has those small leg things that fold out. On it are two cups: tea for Jae, coffee for Brian, a big plate with two sandwiches on it. 

“Relax, Sleeping Beauty, I’m not going to kiss you.” 

Jae hopes his cheeks aren’t burning even if his face is warm.  _ Of course you aren’t. _

“What the hell are you even doing here?”

Brian raises an eyebrow, grins as he sets the tray down on Jae’s bed and takes a seat himself. 

“You remember nothing?”

Jae gets caught up in the small silhouettes as they shift, as Brian moves. The small curl of his upper lip, the line his nose makes against the sunlight streaming in from the window, the way his hand tenses as he turns the handle of the tea cup toward him. 

Brian waves a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Jae? You remember nothing?”

Jae clears his throat, reaches for the coffee cup. 

“I thought you were going to go home with that hot girl. With the bob.” 

Brian grins. 

“Yeah but then who would save your sorry ass?” Brian pushes the plate with the sandwich toward Jae. “Eat up. You pretty much pumped your stomach with gasoline last night. It’s bad for your allergies.” 

Jae rolls his eyes but bites into the sandwich. Brian’s signature grilled cheese: crisp outer layer lathered with butter, the inner layer thinly drizzled with honey, the cheese inside melted to perfection. Jae sighs. 

Brian laughs.

Jae rolls his eyes. “What?”

Brian shakes his head. “I can tell you’re feeling better.” 

Jae shrugs. “A bit.” 

“It’s not everyday that you break up with someone you’ve been with for a long time. It’s normal to feel down in the dumps, to want to Tequila yourself to death, to want to drink until you black out. But don’t spend so much time down in the dumps, alright? It happens to the best of us. What matters is both of you were good to each other,” Brian says, lapsing into the serious, intense mode that always fascinates Jae. “I know you don’t want to tell me what happened yet, but whatever it is, I know you and Wonpil would never cheat on each other. So whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as you think it is.”

_ You have no idea.  _

“I guess you’re right,” Jae says. He frowns, thinking about what Wonpil had said to him the night that they’d finally gone and called it quits, the night that Wonpil had packed up his things and left. The night Jae finally didn’t stop him from leaving.  _ You should think about why you still keep Brian as your emergency contact on your healthcare forms when we’ve been together for seven years. Just. Really think about it.  _ Jae sighs. “Thanks, Bri.”

Brian grins, clinking his cup against Jae’s before taking a sip from his cup of coffee. 

“Anytime.” 

  
  


“Kang Bruh, can you try that again?” Sungjin’s asks from inside the recording booth. 

Brian nods from the control room, lowering the reverb and tweaking the speed on the 808 track. “Better?” 

“Yup.” Sungjin readjusts his guitar, the position of the mic. “Better.”

Brian hits the record button. “Ready when you are.” 

Sungjin starts to sing and play the guitar and Brian closes his eyes, letting the music course through him. 

_ Love you through the better days _

_ Love you through the rainy ones _

_ Champion, you're number one, yeah, that's true _

_ I guess what I'm sayin', I guess what I'm sayin' _

_ I guess what I'm sayin' is, I— _

_ I love you (ah, yeah, ah) _

Brian’s eyes fly open. There’s something missing. It’s something he and Sungjin have been pouring over in the studio for the past month or so. Never in his experience as a lyricist and producer over the last seven years has he encountered anything quite like this. Sonically it’s great: the lines are just the right length, the guitar plucking is flawless (of course, it’s Sungjin), the track is just the right tempo, they’ve even figured out all the backing vocals and harmonies.

And yet. 

And yet, there’s something missing. 

“Still not it?” Sungin asks, glancing at him through the glass. 

Brian shakes his head. “Still not it. Let’s try again tomorrow.”

Sungjin nods. “You wanna get dinner?”

“I’ll pass. Jae’s picking me up.” 

Sungjin snorts. The audio frazzles in Brian’s ear, the soundwaves on his production console zig-zagging.

“What? You wanna join—”

“—don’t let it happen to you again, Kang Bruh,” Sungjin says. 

Brian raises an eyebrow. “Huh?” 

“Oh come on,” Sungjin says, grinning. “College was seven years ago. That’s not  _ that  _ long ago in the bigger scheme of things. Don’t let Jae slip away again.” 

Brian scratches his nape, nervous now. He sighs, thinking back to that night seven years ago: that night when he’d been stupid and Wonpil had won, had become the luckiest man on earth as far as Brian was concerned. 

“Well,” Brian says, grinning at Sungjin nervously. “Here’s to hoping I’m not the same idiot I was in college, right?” 

The dorm building was thumping with music, the whole university centennial celebration creating an air of madness, a frenziedness that permeated every unit, the doors left open for people to dance through, crash in. The parking lot out front was lined with row upon row of hotboxes, steamed up, various shapes shifting within them. 

Brian and Jae were cooped up in their dorm room, as usual, listening to some records, smoking weed. Brian was lying on Jae’s bed while Jae was spinning slowly in the office chair by the desk. 

“You ever think you’ll ever just love one person?” Jae asked, eyes heavy-lidded as he spun slowly to face Brian. “In this crazy, maddening way that makes you want to rip your heart out?”

“Yo,” Brian said, grinning as he let smoke stream out from between his slightly parted lips. “Why so serious all of a sudden?”

Jae laughed nervously then, his full lower lip catching on his teeth a moment too long. A number of times over the years--and these days, moreso, Brian wonders about that moment: there was something in the sound of Jae’s laugh, a shift in the familiar tone that made him wonder earnestly, for a split-second, why Jae had asked. 

It was uncertain, probing, a line thrown out with bait, waiting for a tug. 

A sign of life. 

Although he’d spent so much time afterward telling himself that it couldn’t be true, that Jae could never see him that way, could never be interested in him like that because of how they were, a certain niggling feeling bites at him sometimes, when he and Jae are alone and he catches Jae looking at him in that way of his. 

_ Do you still feel the same? Is there any hope for me?  _

“Nah,” Brian had said, shrugging. “I feel like monogamy’s overrated. And I get bored easily. I’m I’m always hopping from one thing to another. I don’t know what I want so how could I live with just wanting one person? I don’t think I’ve ever been in love and I’m not sure I ever will be.”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he knew he’d regret them forever--because they weren’t true. Even then, part of him had been head over heels in love with Jae, would have done anything for him if he’d asked. 

Except Jae _ had _ asked. 

And Brian had answered wrong. Straight As Brian Kang had gotten the one thing that mattered wrong, had sat there and watched the hurt blush unbidden across Jae’s face. 

“Oh. Yeah. I should’ve known.”

There was silence that should’ve been impossible in that raging building, the kind of silence that comes only as a product of hurt, of a pain unwilling to be articulated. 

“Why do you ask?” Brian met Jae’s gaze then, wasn’t sure if it was just him or if Jae’s eyes were a bit glassy, the eyelashes dotted just-so with a beading tear. 

_ Maybe it’s the weed.  _

“Well, you know. Wonpil and I have been going out for a while. I think it’s about time we make that official. He’s a great guy and I don’t really know what I’m waiting for.” 

_ Wait for me.  _

“Right,” Brian had said. “Wonpil  _ is  _ a great guy. And you deserve a great guy. You should go for it.” 

“You know what,” Jae said then, standing up and lifting a sleeve of his oversized hoodie to the corner of his eye. “I think I will.”

And he did. 

  
  


It got easier over the years because both of them were right about one thing: Wonpil  _ was  _ a great guy. He was funny and always making every dinner the kind of party that people enjoyed. He was smart and intense but carefree and outgoing too, his charm like a candle that put just the right touch on every gathering. It was so hard to hate him and it stung Brian in a way that he hadn’t expected. Seeing Jae with Wonpil--always touching: a hand on a shoulder, an arm slung around the waist, a soft nuzzling of the ear--made him realize that the high he often looked for in the sexcapades, in the casual flings with different people, was something he’d already had since freshman year. 

The one person he was never bored of was Jae. 

Once, at a party three years after they’d gotten together, Wonpil had gotten drunk and started listing down a litany of Jae’s best qualities out loud to the whole room, much to Jae’s chagrin: Jaehyung looks hot even when his hair is messy in the morning, Jaehyung is always singing all over the house and it’s a lovely sound to wake up to, Jaehyung lets me make sweater paws with his oversized hoodies, Jaehyung is always kind, Jaehyung will always try to calm you down even when he’s panicking. 

And then Wonpil had looked him in the eye and smiled sadly. 

“Right, Bri?”

“Right,” Brian had said then because it was true. 

  
  


Tonight, Brian walks out of the elevator and into the lobby of the production house. Jae’s sitting on the couch, waiting for him, his long legs crossed, his scarf still wrapped around his neck, his camel-colored coat shifting on the small sofa. 

“What took you so long? Sungjin came outta there like, thirty minutes ago.” 

Brian feels his ears get hot. He’d brushed his teeth, changed his shirt, swapped out his leather jacket for a longer, more formal-looking black coat. 

“I fell asleep on the sofa.” 

Jae’s watching him again, in that way of his: eyes intent, brows slightly furrowed.

“You look good tonight.” 

Brian grins. 

“You look good all the time.” 

Jae laughs—that nervous wavering giving birth to a thousand lightning bugs in the pit of Brian’s stomach.

“Let’s get something to eat.” 

Brian grins and opens the door, risking a hand pressing softly on the small of Jae’s back as they walk out to Jae’s car. 

“Yeah, let’s do that.”


	2. I Sent a Prayer for Something Holy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twt: @teenuviel1227  
> Title is from the most beautiful cover in the world: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TILFGfOdq2E
> 
> This is going to be a slow burn. Expect a chapter or two daily.

_ How can you not hate him, even just a little bit?  _

That was a question that Dowoon had asked Jae in disbelief all those years ago, when Jae told him about everything a week later over a couple of beers at one of the bars near the university. How he’d tried to confess, how Brian had basically told him that love just wasn’t his  _ thing _ . How they’d finished the joint and left the room, Jae wandering around to look for Wonpil. How the last thing Jae saw before slipping out of the dormitory building was Brian making out Jamie  _ and  _ Terry, both of them pressing him against the wall, Brian’s head tilted back as they kissed down his neck. How he’d made up his mind that he would stop looking for things where they couldn’t be found. 

Jae had shrugged, then. “He saved me.” 

And to put it simply: Brian was always saving him. 

It’s not like Jae’s never tried to cut him out, to cull Brian like an addiction--which is some ways, he supposes Brian was, is--but everytime he tried to ignore Brian, to not be as enthusiastic, to keep his responses despondent, he kept coming back to that night in their second year, right after Jae had finished his first debate class, a severely anxious affair that left him shivering in their dorm room, his back pressed against the wall, his shirt soaked through in a cold sweat, his vision doing cartwheels. If he thought about it now, he couldn’t tell you what one thing it was that set him off: it wasn’t exactly the fact that he’d suddenly been unsure what to say or that he felt his dreams of becoming a lawyer slipping from under him, it wasn’t the people watching him as he stood up, palms sweaty, it wasn’t the way that the room had been just a tad too cold but his whole body felt hot. And in fact, Jae had won the debate, had been surprisingly articulate, and yet as he left the room, he’d had to steady himself with the walls, had crossed campus to their dorm with a hand pressed to the landscape like he was a blind man in a maze. 

Brian had come home, pushing the door open with his back, entangled in Hani, who lived in the dorm across the way, the familiar sound of Brian making out with someone--all low, breathless sighs that was the stuff of Jae’s nightmares, filled the room. And Jae, despite himself pushed himself up off the bed.

“Sorry,” Jae had said, his voice coming out cracked, weaker than he’d expected. “I’ll go--” 

Jae lost his balance, stumbled. The room spun. 

“--Jae--” 

Jae reached out--and then something caught him, something warm.

And then there Brian was, propping him up, holding him close as he lowered Jae slowly to sit on the bed, his hands warm and broad and comforting against Jae’s clammy skin. There was Brian telling Hani sorry but they’d have to postpone, Brian slowly taking Jae’s glasses off and setting them aside like they were some kind of national treasure, Brian peeling off Jae’s shirt and swabbing him down with a face towel, Jae putting a fresh cotton shirt on Jae. 

Brian telling Jae to lie down for a bit--he’d get them a ride to the hospital. 

Brian putting Jae’s coat on his shoulders, slowly guiding him to the cab.

Brian telling the nurse at the emergency room Jae was having a kind of panic attack, that Jae was an anxious person but not very expressive about these things, that yes, he would be filling out the paperwork for Jae. That the priority was to please have him be comfortable, please get him a room if need be and Brian would front the money. 

Once he’d woken up in the hospital room, the world pulsing at a regular rate again, the first thing Jae saw was Brian sleeping slumped in the chair by the bed, clothes rumpled, hair mussed, head tilted back, his mouth open. 

_ But still gorgeous.  _

“Hey.” 

“Hey,” Brian said, slowly blinking awake. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Jae replied, sitting up. 

“Do you know you didn’t have any next of kin or emergency contacts listed on your HMO card?”

Jae scratched his head. “Well. I mean my family’s in the states. Not like the hospital’s gonna call collect.” 

Brian reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out Jae’s card and turned it over.

“I put myself down, if you don’t mind.” 

Jae grinned, squinting at the small text. 

In case of emergency, contact:    
Brian Kang (강영현) 8126261829

“Thanks Bri.” 

Brian grinned, standing up and reaching for something in the bedside table’s drawer. He sat gently beside Jae on the bed, wiped Jae’s glasses with the fabric of his shirt before setting them slowly on the bridge of Jae’s nose. 

Brian swam into vision: that silhouette, the line of his nose, the shape of his eyes, watching Jae, intently. Brian’s hand lingering on Jae’s chin, eyes refusing to let go, to look elsewhere. Jae felt a bead of sweat track its way down his back.

“If anything like that happens again, you call me, alright? No matter where you are. No matter where I am. Or with who.”

And really, how could Jae ever write him off after that? 

For Brian, Jae was like air or breathing: he hadn’t noticed him at first, at least not in that way, but before he knew it, Jae was the one necessary thing in his life, the one thing that came easily to him. It isn’t that Jae isn’t attractive or that he didn’t think Jae was good-looking when they first met. In fact, one of his first thoughts was that Jae looked like a model for hipster wear, that it was a shame a camera didn’t follow him around to take photos of him while he lounged around in sweatpants, a beanie, and his gold round-framed glasses. There was something elegant and graceful in the things that Jae did, even if it was just leaning back against the wall or standing next to the coffee cart. 

But the thing is, Jae didn’t seem like someone who would fuck around. And to 18-year-old Brian Kang, that was really priority number one on his list of criteria for people to pursue. To him, Jae was in a league of his own, a list where there were no numbers because there was no one else. 

The title of the list in Brian’s mind was: in a perfect world.

In a perfect world, I would spend all my time with:

Park Jaehyung 

And before he knew it, life was getting in the way. Before he knew it, it wasn’t just that Jae was with Wonpil, it was also that Brian felt unworthy, felt like he’d been to disloyal, too true to the fuckboy persona he’d been so obsessed with in college to deserve someone like Jae. 

Someone like Jae who’d told him once that the thing about having a partner was that it wasn’t as though you weren’t friends, it’s that you were  _ more  _ than friends so the basis of it still had to be friendship. And in that moment, Brian knew exactly how lucky Wonpil was. He knew then that at the bottom of it, at a fundamental level, Jae saw Wonpil as someone who was the fulcrum of his life. That if Jae was with someone, it wasn’t an arbitrary thing. Jae was  _ with  _ someone. Jae was in it. 

There was a moment, a few years ago, when Brian had thought of confessing, had thought in a moment of madness of telling Jae exactly how he felt. Jae had gone back to California for a few months for his law office internship and Brian had gone to visit Jae because Sungjin’s tour had a stop in San Diego and he figured, well, why not? They hadn’t seen each other in months and it’s not like Brian was in a hurry to get home.   
  
They made arrangements for Brian to stay the weekend at Jae’s tiny studio flat above a gas station, the small porch a little dingy but perfect for early evening drinking. There would be a whole day’s interval before Wonpil flew in from Seoul to join Jae for the rest of his internship. Because Wonpil was a professor, he had some time during the summer where he could do as he pleased and he’d decided to fly in for the last two weeks of Jae’s internship and join him on the trip home. 

Although Brian wouldn’t have minded hanging out and staying even if Wonpil was there (he’d learned to get used to it by now, had learned to like Wonpil in his own strange way), part of him was relieved that he and Jae would be alone, that he would have Jae to himself, that they could sit in front of the TV and put their feet up on the coffee table, barely touching or make dinner together, both of them singing along to the same song or laugh at inside jokes without having to explain it to anyone. That had always been enough for Brian, those small intimacies, those tiny gestures of closeness. Those were rare these days. 

The weekend was perfect: Brian arrived on a Friday night and they’d ordered in, a sophisticated mix of chipotle, chinese food, and some fancy wine that Jae had gotten from his boss at the law office. The next Saturday they spent wallowing in nature, getting up early to drive to the coast, packing a basket of food and duffel bags with a change of clothing. They’d tried to surf, laughing themselves silly everytime they fell off their surfboards in their attempts to stand. Brian caught Jae staring at him a couple of times and caught himself staring at Jae too long, too often in return—it was hard not to when the sun caught in Jae’s hair like that, when it made his pale skin blush in a way that reminded Brian of a sunrise. 

When the sun lowered enough in the horizon to be able to walk without discomfort, they’d showered and changed into their hiking clothes, driving up to a trail and walking aimlessly until it was almost dusk. 

“Let me tell ya, Bri,” Jae had said, putting a hand casually on Brian’s shoulder, leaning on him a little. “We haven’t hung out like this in ages.” 

Brian had laughed, had slipped an arm around Jae’s waist almost out of instinct, not wanting to think about how good this felt, how natural and easy. 

“I missed you too, Jae.” 

They walked like that, veering off of the path and onto land where the grass grew almost to knee height. 

“This is dangerous,” Jae said as they stopped at the edge of one of the cliffs overlooking the city. “There could be snakes or loose soil.”

They were both a little breathless, then, from the hiking--and, in Brian’s case, from the proximity to Jae, from the restraint from wanting to lace their fingers together or lean in and kiss him. What  _ would  _ Jae do if he tried? What would Jae say if he came out and said how he felt right then and there? Told him to leave Wonpil, to leave it all behind because after years of being an idiot he was finally sure that he was the one for him, the only one for him. 

Brian watched Jae watching the sunset. 

_ How is it possible to love someone this much and find no words to say it?  _

“Yeah,” Brian agreed, turning to face the sunset. “This is dangerous.” 

  
  


“Is this like, a part of the help-your-bestfriend-recover-package now?” Jae asks as he walks out of his office at the law firm later that week to find Brian waiting by his secretary’s desk, leaning on the ledge. “We take turns picking each other up from work like I can’t be left alone?” 

“I guess so,” Brian says, grinning. “Or maybe it’s like visit-your-bestfriend-at-work-day. Except everyday.” 

Jae gives Brian a once-over when he thinks Brian isn’t looking. He’s dressed up again: gray turtleneck, dark jeans, boots Jae only ever sees at Christmas. 

He turns toward his assistant, Ayeon. “If he starts flirting with you, let me know, I’ll kill him.” 

“Oh come on.” Ayeon laughs. “I think we all know Brian hasn’t flirted with anyone else properly in years.” 

Brian grins sheepishly and Jae feels like he’s missed a step, somewhere in the staircase of the joke.

“I don’t get it but okayyyy.” 

Ayeon rolls her eyes. “If you still don’t get it by now, you’ll never get it. The case files you wanted are already with Bri.”

“Shall we?” Brian asks, holding the door open. 

Jae looks at him for a moment, deciding he likes the way this looks: he likes seeing Brian in his office, likes seeing Brian holding his things, likes seeing Brian everyday, likes that he seems to think all of this is implied and necessary and just something that  _ is _ . 

  
  


“So how was work?” Jae asks as they sit at the Italian restaurant--a little fancy for him and Brian’s usual burger route, but he decides it’s an upgrade of their college set up of eating pizza for dinner. Except now, they can afford to get the extra toppings and a bottle of good wine. 

“There’s this song that Sungjin’s been working on,” Brian says. “And I don’t know what it’s missing. It’s lyrically good, there’s something missing.” 

“Is this real?” Jae jokes. “The great lyricist, Lord Byron of our time Lord Brian Kang is out of words? For a love song? The world really  _ is  _ coming to an end.” 

Brian grins. “Well. I mean. Maybe. There are so many things happening lately that I thought would be impossible that are happening so. Maybe the world really is turning on its head.” 

Jae grins. “Like what?” 

Brian shrugs. “You know. Opportunities. For stuff.” 

Jae nods slowly, taking a sip from his glass of wine. “Riiiiight, right. Very specific, Mr. Kang.” 

“You know me,” Brian jokes. “A boon of eloquence.” 

Jae grins. “So what’s the song?” 

“I don’t wanna sing it here!” 

“Oh come on. Are you shy now too?” Jae raises an eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips.

Brian rolls his eyes. “Speaking of...places that aren't here, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What?” 

“Do you wanna take a trip?” 

“A trip?” Jae repeats. “Like with Sungjin and Dowoon?” 

“No,” Brian shakes his head. “Like with you and me?” 

“Oh.” Jae says, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of being alone with Brian somewhere new and exciting, somewhere potentially romantic. The thought of being with Brian alone in enclosed space. “Well, sure. Where were you thinking of going? And when?” 

“Tuscany maybe?” Brian says. “The countryside? We could rent a car and a cottage and I think it’d be nice to get away. As soon as you’re free?” 

“And what about Sungjin’s song? The one you can’t figure out?” 

“That’s what the internet is for.” Brian grins. “And trust me, Sungjin will understand.” 

“Okay, then,” Jae says, softly, more pleased than he wants to let on, but letting on more than he thinks he lets on, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Let’s do that.” 


	3. You Bring Out the Best of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Twt: @teenuviel1227  
> Title is from the most beautiful cover in the world: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TILFGfOdq2E
> 
> This is going to be a slow burn. Expect a chapter or two daily.

They arrive at the cottage right on the Tuscan countryside as dusk is about to settle, the entire sky blushing with pinks and purples tinged with amber. Jae pulls up, still struggling with the left-hand drive stick shift, the small car stopping awkwardly in front of the small garage instead of _in_ it. The engine sputters and he lets it. 

“Close enough,” Jae says, grinning. 

It amazes Jae how few things they’ve brought along: barely two suitcases between them, plus Jae’s big backpack. _It’s not snowing or anything,_ Brian had said on the plane, looking up from the forecast on his tablet. _And if it gets cold, I’ll just borrow one of your hoodies._

Jae had had the impulse, then, to reach out and hold Brian’s hand, to intertwine their fingers, lean in, and kiss him on the corner of the mouth before saying that _of course, baby you can borrow my hoodie_. Instead, he’d clenched his fists and settled for ordering another cup of tea from the flight attendant. Now his palms are lined with small, crescent-moon marks from where his nails had dug in. Now, it stings a bit as he lifts his back pack out of the trunk with one hand before slinging it over his shoulder. 

But in a flurry of movement, Jae feels the pain dissolve as Brian takes him slowly by the wrist, guiding him toward the small, quaint door that chimes when Brian puts the key in and turns the knob. Jae lets himself be pulled along, putting his things down on the sofa, too entranced by the feeling of Brian’s warm hand on his pulse. His pulse, racing.

Two weeks, he thinks. Two weeks that could change things forever. 

Once they’re inside, they unpack slowly, make a show of discovering the house: there’s a cozy living room, a spacious lanai which is perfect for settling down with a bottle of wine while watching the fields without being burnt to a crisp by the sun, a bathroom with a brass clawfoot tub. Brian’s excited that there’s a good-sized kitchen with an espresso machine and Jae debates whether or not to say that he’s looking forward to Brian’s waffles, which he hasn’t tasted in forever. He opens his mouth as if to say something and as he’s about to change his mind about speaking up at all, he looks up to catch Brian looking at him.

Jae smirks. “What?”

“I can make waffles tomorrow.” 

Jae looks at his feet, knows that he’s blushing and Brian is watching him do it. He looks up and watches the fading light dance across Brian’s face. Again, another silhouette: Brian’s broad frame against the low evening light. For once, Jae decides to be brave, doesn’t look away. 

“I’d like that.” 

  
  


The first time that Brian cooked waffles for Jae, Jae ended up bawling in their dorm room and Brian sat there, perplexed, wondering if he did something wrong, wondering if this was one of those weird allergies that Jae said he had. _Who the hell is allergic to waffles?_ It was two weeks after the first day of freshman year, Brian still excited about the campus, the people, all the things he could do now that he was in college. 

Plus, he was enjoying his classes, music production working out for him much, much, much better than even he could’ve predicted.

Plus, the night before he’d had an exceptionally good night with two guys he met at a party—BamBam, who had legs that never seemed to end, and Mark, who seemed just as glad about BamBam’s legs as Brian was. 

Plus, it didn’t hurt that he’d saved up some money from his part-time job at the coffee shop to buy a waffle maker. 

Plus, it didn’t hurt that his roommate wasn’t just gorgeous, with all six feet of Jae striking, all milk-pale limbs punctuated with that easy smile and profile that Brian swears could cut a strip of fabric into ribbons if he got too close. 

He’d come home late the night before to find Jae sleeping, passed out and exhausted on his desk. He’d taken Jae’s glasses off slowly, set them aside before taking Jae’s pillow and slowly, slowly, very mindful of the pressure of his hands on Jae’s cheek, slipped the pillow under Jae’s head. He’d put a blanket over Jae’s shoulders and paused to watch him, thinking that something about Jae looked deeply sad and tired, just then. 

_I’ll make him waffles. Everyone loves my waffles._

And so Brian had gotten up early, had made the batter, had cooked the waffles and plated them with a dollop of whipped cream and some chocolate syrup his mom had sent him from Canada. He knew what it was to be lonely, knew exactly the sort of thing that would cheer him up. 

So he’d nudged Jae awake, thinking about how cute it was that Jae had a habit of blinking once, twice, before settling on keeping his eyes open. He’d brought Jae over to the tiny kitchenette which was really just a waffle maker beside an electric stove, sat him down at their small makeshift dining table, and served the waffles along with some tea for Jae--Brian knew at once if someone was a tea drinker or a coffee drinker--and coffee for Brian. 

And then Jae had burst out crying, waves of grief shuddering through his body in a way that terrified Brian. First, because he wondered if he’d done something wrong, something stupid to upset Jae. And second, because it hurt his heart a little to see Jae like that. 

So even if they’d only known each other two weeks, even if it wasn’t his place, Brian had pulled Jae in, had let him cry into his chest until his shirt was soaked, had stroked his hair until Jae’s breathing calmed down. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Brian said softly, then. “Whatever’s happening, it’s going to be okay.” 

“I didn’t think it’d be like this, you know,” Jae said, pulling away slowly. “I--I thought it’d be easier for me, I thought college would be easier. But I haven’t made any friends yet and I keep reading these novels in class--” 

“--I’m your friend,” Brian said simply, wiping a tear away from the corner of Jae’s eye. 

“Oh.” Jae blinked, then, straightening up and looking at Brian in that way Brian’s noticed he likes doing: moving his gaze quickly up Brian’s frame before pausing at his face, lingering as though there was something odd there. Math problem, conundrum. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime,” Brian said. “It’s normal to feel these things.” 

“I don’t cry a lot, I guess,” Jae said, shrugging as he bit into one of the waffles. 

Brian shrugged. “I cry all the time.” 

“Yo,” Jae said, grinning in a way that made Brian’s heart flutter. “These waffles are fucking delicious. 

  
  


There’s only one bed: a premise out of a rom com, something that both of them know they should’ve checked on, something both of them suspect they may have left out checking on on purpose. 

“We could rock-paper-scissors for the bed,” Brian says slowly. 

Jae frowns, glances at Brian. “Is that what you want?”

Brian shakes his head slowly. “No. I don’t think I’d like that very much.” 

Jae’s voice comes out soft, like a whisper. “What do you want?”

Brian grins. “You.” 


	4. If I Wrote You A Love Song, Would You Sing It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Twt: @teenuviel1227  
> Title is from the most beautiful cover in the world: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TILFGfOdq2E
> 
> This is going to be a slow burn. Expect a chapter or two daily.

Jae is at a loss for words, a million thoughts pulling themselves across his mind like a bullet train with nowhere to go. He thinks about the simplicity of the word and the candor with which Brian had said it.  _ You. _ How many ways are there to misinterpret that? Jae wonders, looking at Brian now as though he’s never seen him before. 

Brian’s smile falters a little, his eyebrows furrowing. He waves a hand slowly in front of Jae’s face. 

“Jae? You okay? Did I upset you? I mean if you don’t want--”

“--no,” Jae says, shaking his head slowly. “No, it’s not that. I’m just a little confused.” 

“Oh. About what?” Brian asks, wondering if he hadn’t made himself clear, if somehow he’d managed to fuck up the simplest confession in the world. 

“What do you mean you want me?”

“Um,” Brian says, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “I guess I just meant that--”

“--you love me ‘cause I’m your bestfriend?”

“I love you.” Brian blurts out, grinning and sort of tugging at the hems of his shirt, clearly nervous now. “Not as a friend. Very, very much more than that.” 

“Oh,” Jae says, blinking until the world starts to shutter like film. “Oh, okay. Okay. Wait. I think I need to sit down.”   


Brian guides Jae over to the couch, taking him softly by the elbow and sitting down beside him as they watch the fading sunlight make patterns on the floor in a moment of silence. 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Brian says slowly, breaking the silence.  _ I’d deserve that.  _ “I mean, I meant what I said that I wanted to come here to hang out with you and to bond and all of that. So don’t worry about it you know? Even if you don’t love me back, I mean, I would be heartbroken, but I would understand.” 

Jae lets out a soft laugh, throwing his head back a little, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows softly with his forefinger. 

“I’m glad you thought that was funny,” Brian says, a tinge of hurt trickling into his voice.

“No,” Jae says, putting a hand softly on Brian’s knee. “That’s not what I was laughing about.”

Brian raises an eyebrow. 

“I just thought it was funny you thought there might be a possibility on some planet that I wasn’t in love with you.” 

  
  


There was a period in time when they’d almost dropped out of touch, hadn’t spoken for the longest time in the history of their entire friendship. It was two years after graduation and Jae had told Brian that he was moving out. 

Back then, they lived in a small loft in the Mapo area, the bed area of which they shared, their two mattresses slumped together on the floor. Some nights, Brian would end up talking Jae out of his night terrors and other nights, Jae would end up singing Brian to sleep, touching his hair softly in that way that he knew Brian liked. 

And it wasn’t that Brian hadn’t seen it coming--what kind of guy would want their boyfriend living with another guy who obviously has feelings for said boyfriend?

_ That was ages ago,  _ Brian had insisted, then. 

And Sungjin, of course, had countered with the perfect argument.  _ Then why are you so upset about it?  _

Brian had come home to find Jae sitting at the table, his head held between his hands in consternation, his things already packed up and ready to go. Brian felt tears sting his eyes as he saw Jae’s mattress uncovered, folded, and lined up against the wall, packing rope strung around it.

He’d made Brian’s bed, fixing the sheets, leaving a small note on the pillow. 

It looked as lonely in the loft as Brian left. 

“Bri,” Jae said softly, then, leaning over to hold Brian in a loose hug. “I’m gonna miss you.” 

“Then why are you leaving?” Brian’s voice came out shakier than he’d expected, his voice cracking on the lilt of the question. 

“Wonpil and I have been together for a while now, plus his place is near the law office. And you know--maybe it could be good for you too,” Jae says softly. 

“How could this be good for me?” Brian knows that he’s being petty now, knows that the tears are running down his face and he sounds irrational, but he doesn’t care. “How could it be good for me for the one person who knows me properly in this whole goddamn world to leave me?”

“Bri,” Jae sighs. “It’s just across the river. I’m 40 minutes away. You can come sleepover at our place, Wonpil has a guest room. And I thought it might be good for you to find someone eventually you know. The chicas and chicos don’t really wanna come over and do the nasty when you’re sleeping on the floor with your college roommate.” 

“I don’t care about them,” Brian says, wiping tears away with the back of his hand. “And I told you right? I’m not looking for love. I don’t care about that shit. I care about you being here and us living our goddamn lives together.” 

_ But that’s the problem,  _ Jae had thought in that moment.  _ If I stay here, I’ll never live my life.  _

“Read my letter,” Jae says slowly, giving Brian one last squeeze before pulling away. “And then get back to me.” 

Brian couldn’t look as Jae picked his things up and left. Instead, he crawled into the bed, crying to himself because as much as he wanted to say  _ fuck it  _ all he could think about was how much it fucking stung. Jae living in Wonpil’s place, Jae sleeping in Wonpil’s bed, Jae eating the breakfast that Wonpil cooked. 

Although of course Brian knew they’d probably had those experiences together (they’d been together for more than five years at this point, for fuck’s sake), he always thought that he’d at least won the role of being the place Jae called home. He went to Wonpil’s for overnight trips, small sprints, but he always came home. 

And now, Brian felt lost, untethered. 

Who was he supposed to talk to when Jae wasn’t here? 

What was he supposed to  _ do _ ?

He shifted a bit, realized that the letter Jae left was stuck under his head. Slowly, he pulled it out. Powder-blue envelope, his name in small, messy writing across the front.

_ As if there’s anyone else here.  _

Brian noticed there was something else in the envelope: Jae’s key.

Brian felt a sob crawl its way up his throat as he held the key softly to his lips as if praying for Jae to come back. He took a deep breath, started to read the letter. 

_ I’m crying already anyway.  _

Bri, 

You’re the best and I’m not just saying that. You’ve always been my number one person, my default partner in class (even if we never had any classes together), my bestfriend. 

And while I love living with you, I also think you should give yourself a fighting chance at love. I know you think it’s useless, but love isn’t just that oppressive thing you keep talking about when you describe it. 

It’s also the little things like doing things for someone, listening to how someone’s day went, that sort of thing. 

And I want you to know that you gave me that, for the longest time. 

You deserve to be happy. 

Thank you for always taking care of me.

XO, 

Jae

Brian let the sobs run loose then, not caring if his neighbors or the whole building or the whole block or the entirety of Seoul heard him. He thought of Jae the night before, both of them staying up because it would be their last night together. He thought of how he’d been caught between the want to be tender and sweet and cherish that last evening, but also the desire to be surly and act out and let Jae know that he wasn’t okay with this. 

“Bri,” Jae had said in that quiet way of his as they lay face to face in the gentle darkness.

“Mmmm?”

“I’m really, really gonna miss you.”

He heard the shake in Jae’s voice then, the crack, the fissure in his certainty and it dealt him a blow of guilt and tenderness. Guilt at wanting Jae to stay, at sulking about it, at being difficult. And tenderness for all the longing that he couldn’t express. 

“Not as much as I’ll miss you.” 

  
  


For the next six months or so, they stopped speaking--or at least stopped speaking regularly. There were links shared, some memes seen over chat, some posts liked here and there, but nothing really deep. Neither of them asked to meet up. 

At the time, Wonpil had told Jae that he and Brian had developed a lot of codependent behavior. That they felt this weird separation anxiety because together, they could be stuck in their eternal boyhood. But Jae thought that it was a lot deeper than that, the roots of hurt going a much further under the surface. 

It felt like a betrayal, almost, to recognize each other in these new lives where they weren’t the cornerstones of each other’s daily routines. Of course, Jae saw things: on Instagram, for example, he found out that Brian had, in fact, gone and found himself love. Her name was Seulgi, was an artist whose photographs were shown at the Seoul Museum of Modern Art a few weeks ago. She took portraits, her most famous one being a black and white photograph of Brian at the kitchen table in his pajamas, his top off as he drank coffee sitting cross-legged on the counter, reading a book. The light in the photograph stretched his shadow out beneath him so it looked almost like he was floating on the surface of water. 

And although Jae was happy for him, and although Jae was glad that Brian had finally found someone, he’d also realized that part of him had always thought that when Brian came to his senses, he would realize he was in love with Jae. 

Not that Jae was in a position to act on that love, should it have come to him then. 

Not that he still wanted to, anyway. 

Not that Jae was still in love with Brian, anyway--except that in some deeply buried, locked-away compartment of his heart, Jae knew he always would be. 

The first time they met again was, surprisingly enough, in Jae’s courtroom. Brian had filed for copyright infringement against a duo that had been using his track without permission a few weeks before Jae moved out and by the time the court date rolled around, they’d both almost forgotten about it completely. 

There were strained emails back and forth about it, both of them answering matter-of-factly, both of them being pleasant without asking any real questions, without probing for any information that would sting. But that day, as Brian watched Jae stand up for him in the courtroom, he remembered just how much he missed Jae, just how passionately Jae stood up for everything he believed in, how Jae was the only lawyer he knew who would show up on a crucial date like this for someone who’d treated him the way Brian had treated him. 

And so after the settlement leaned in their favor, after the judge had adjourned the session, just as Jae was about the wave goodbye, Brian had reached over and tugged softly on Jae’s wrist, a motion that was so familiar to them both they both got goosebumps under their coats. 

“Bri?”

“Let’s have coffee?”

Brian could tell that Jae’s eyes were glassy under his glasses--was pretty sure his own eyes weren’t looking to dry either. 

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

  
  


Tonight, Brian and Jae are lying in bed, facing each other like they did in that old apartment. It’s quiet, only the sound of the breeze outside and the crickets of the countryside in the air. The rest of the afternoon they’d spent doing small, seemingly mundane things: unpacking the few bags that they had, sanitizing the bathroom, making sure that they had a grocery list ready for the next day when they went into town. 

Neither of them had made a move, had tried to kiss each other, had done anything except say how they felt, except grin at each other because they just couldn’t stop grinning at each other. This was mostly because they didn’t really feel a need to do anything else: they’d loved each other in exactly this way for years and both of them were unsure what to do next, still testing the waters, both of them just dipping a toe slowly into the ocean of affection. 

Everything, the newest thing.

Everything, more familiar than ever.

“This is really nice,” Jae says softly, moving his foot so that it’s overlapped with Brian’s. 

“It is,” Brian replies, pulling Jae a little bit closer by the hem of his oversized shirt. “You know, I don’t know if this is something I missed or if it’s something I’ve fantasized about for so long that I’m only remembering the good feeling of it in the dream as something I missed.”

“Maybe it’s both,” Jae says softly.

“How could it be both?” Brian asks, genuinely curious.

Jae plays with a stray strand of Brian’s hair that falls into his eyes. 

“We’ve lain down together a million times before but you lying here and loving me—I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

“Jokes on you, then,” Brian says, laughing softly. 

“I guess so,” Jae agrees, pulling Brian in closer until they’re cradled in each other’s arms, noses almost touching.

Brian thinks of kissing Jae then, but decides against it because sleep is catching up to them both, slumber and exhaustion from jetlag creeping in at the edges of waking.  _ I want to kiss him when I’m fully present, when I can feel everything, when I can commit every detail and feeling to memory. _

“There’ll be tomorrow,” Jae says slowly, as if reading his mind.

“And so many more tomorrows after that,” Brian mumbles against the shoulder of Jae’s sweater.

“Goodnight, Jae.”

“Sweetdreams, BriBri.”


	5. Touching You Slowly, Love How You Hold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twt: @teenuviel1227  
> Title is from the most beautiful cover in the world: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TILFGfOdq2E
> 
> This is going to be a slow burn. Expect a chapter or two daily.

In the end, Brian supposes, he had to be grateful to Seulgi. When she’d broken up with him two years into their relationship, he felt like she was out of her mind, like she was throwing a good thing away, like he’d traded one hurt for another, like he was having his heart broken all over again. 

The break up happened in their apartment, another place where Brian thought he’d be safe, another place he considered home.  _ Not again. Please not again.  _ By then they were living in the Insadong art district in a cozy one-bedroom flat with wide, South-facing windows. 

The sun was always shining somewhere in that apartment. 

It was small but they’d made their own: hanging paintings on the wall, converting the closet into a sound studio for Brian and an adjoining dark room for Seulgi, succulents lining the windows, the full-length windows framed by long, billowy curtains. 

For Brian, it felt like a second chance.

On that night, after they’d had one of their fights at Wendy’s gallery opening nearby, Seulgi had sat on the sofa, oddly calm. Usually, a fight would mean both of them arguing at the top of their lungs, yelling until they found that familiar passion and made up with an especially zealous round of lovemaking. But tonight, Seulgi sat on the couch, watching the wind play with the curtains. It terrified Brian, a strange fear gripping him as he sat beside her.

“Seulgi,” he’d said then, taking her hand and kissing it softly. “Teddy Bear--I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again--” 

“--Younghyun,” Seulgi replied, looking him right in the eye. A shiver ran down Brian’s spine at the use of his real name. He knew what was coming even before she spoke, but the sound of it broke his heart anyway. “Let’s break up.” 

“No--please,” Brian had said then, pulling Seulgi close, tears streaming hot down his cheeks. “How many times do I have to tell you that things aren’t like that with me and Jae anymore? Haven’t you ever had a first love? Haven’t you ever had anyone who you loved and lost? Why is this so difficult for you to understand?”

“Of course I had a first love. Of course I know how much it hurts. But you know what the difference is?” Seulgi asked, shaking her head. “You didn’t lose Jae. He’s always, always there. You don’t know it yet but you’re both just biding time, waiting for each other to grow the hell up.” 

“You’re being cruel.” 

“Am I?” Seulgi asked slowly. “Or are  _ you  _ being cruel by wanting to stay? Think about it, Bri. This happens every time there’s an event like tonight. You’re perfectly normal until Jae shows up and then it’s like I don’t exist.” 

“How could you not exist?” Brian asked softly. “You’re my girlfriend. I introduce you to everyone. Wendy’s  _ our  _ friend.” 

“Exactly,” Seulgi agreed. “Wendy’s  _ our  _ friend, but you still felt like you had to invite Jae. You introduce me to everyone and it’s all fine and then Jae shows up and you two disappear off into the corner in your own little world with your inside jokes and your intimate anecdotes. You make me feel so stupid and small and insignificant. And on any other day you can do that. If it’s Sungjin’s party, fine. If it’s Jae’s birthday, fine. I’ll adjust. But this was  _ our  _ thing. All you had to do was not bring it up with him. I just wanted you to myself for one goddamn night.” 

Brian frowned, unsure what to do, unsure how to make it all better. 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

Seulgi sighed. “You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just call it quits.”

“But I love you,” Brian said, knowing that his voice was catching on a sob rising in his throat.

Seulgi smiled at him sadly. “And I love you too, Bri. Maybe a big part of me always will, but I can’t live like this. I can’t be second best. I can’t live my life always scared that Jae is going to show up and you’ll forget all about me. At the gallery earlier, Wonpil and I ran into each other at the champagne bar and we looked at each other and we knew. We just knew that we were in the same boat. No one should ever settle for being anyone’s second choice.” 

“I’m sorry,” Brian said, the magnitude of the situation dawning on him. “I’m really, really sorry I made you feel that way.” 

Seulgi smiled a small smile. “I know you think I’m throwing everything we have away, but one day you’ll understand. One day you’ll know what I mean. Just--I hope it’s sooner rather than later. For the sake of everyone involved.” 

Seulgi touched a hand to his cheek one more time before standing up and heading to the bedroom. 

“Trust me. This is the best thing for both of us.” 

  
  


Today, lying in bed with Jae, the warm morning sun streaming in through the windows of the small villa, Brian understands exactly what Seulgi had meant. Not that he hadn’t loved her, not that he hadn’t been sincere. But yes, if he could, under any circumstances, choose to Jae, he would be with Jae.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Brian says softly, cupping Jae’s cheek with his hand. 

“Hey, you,” Jae replies, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What are you doing?” Brian asks, laughing. 

“Morning breath.” 

Brian rolls his eyes. “It’s not like we didn’t live together for six years. I don’t care about your morning breath.” 

“Oh,” Jae says, his cheeks turning pink. “I just thought you were going to--” 

“--yes?” Brian raises an eyebrow. “Nevermind--” 

“--kiss you?"

Jae smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. I guess? I mean, I dunno. I dunno what it is people do.” 

Brian grins. “I intend to kiss the hell out of you. But I don’t want you to smell  _ my  _ morning breath.” 

“Oh come on--” 

“--hold that thought.” Brian jumps out of bed, then, taking the covers with him. 

Jae blinks against the sudden rush of sunlight, grins as he realizes that Brian’s gone into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

His heart is pounding now, the thought of Brian coming back into the room to kiss him making his palms sweat. He’s thought about it for so long, has kept away from the thought so long and now it’s going to happen. 

Now they’re finally going to begin. 

  
  


The night that Jae and Wonpil had broken up, Jae had resisted calling Brian because he wanted Wonpil to be wrong. He wanted Wonpil to be absolutely, completely, irrevocably mired in regret about the thing he’d hung over Jae’s head all these years: Brian. Brian and the big space that he occupied in Jae’s life. Brian and the control that Jae was willing to give Brian when it came to his life. 

In Jae’s mind, he’d done everything that he could: when Wonpil said that he was feeling left out, he made sure to include Wonpil whenever he and Brian went out, to tell Wonpil about the conversations that he and Brian had even though Wonpil never quite understood them, never really knew what the fun was in arguing about who the first Brian was. Brian Kang or Brian Dennis Park. When Wonpil had said that he felt like Jae couldn’t leave Brian, like they’d be old and married but Brian would end up living with them, Jae had moved out, had left Brian in their old Mapo flat alone--even if it had hurt him, even if the few months they didn’t talk were the worst months of his life. When Wonpil said that it bothered him whenever Brian called late at night and Jae stepped out of the room to take the call, Jae had started taking the calls in the room--and then the problem had been that Wonpil didn’t feel comfortable with the way they told each other everything about each other’s day: down to minute details like whether Brian had gotten off that morning to the erotic film Seulgi had recommended or if Jae had farted in court that afternoon, after eating the burrito that Wonpil had packed.

Instead of following his instincts and calling Brian right away, he’d instead visited all the places that he and Wonpil had gone to during their seven years together, driving around the city in circles. The branch of Kyobo near Gwanghwamun square where Wonpil had first tried to kiss him, the small eatery in Hongdae where he’d decided that yes, he would love Wonpil back. The hotel in Itaewon where they’d first spent the night together back when doing something like that meant saving up for a month and a half, the bridge where Wonpil had waited for Jae back during his law school days to see him for a quick lunch with sandwiches that he’d packed. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back: Jae had gotten allergies and they’d ended up in the Emergency Room, the nurse carefully reading out the faded back of Jae’s healthcare card. She’d looked up at Wonpil and asked two words that had ruptured the thing that was already threatening to come undone:  _ Brian Kang?  _

And Jae had looked up, hoping to see Brian there, rushing toward him, rushing to make everything okay. 

So that final night, when Wonpil had left and Jae had gone on his trip down memory lane, he’d realized that as much as he wanted Wonpil to be wrong, turns out Wonpil was, in fact, very, very right. 

Now, Jae is holding his breath as Brian slides back under the covers. Now, Brian knows his palms are sweaty, but knows that he’s never been more certain of anything in his life. Now, Jae knows that he’s so tense in the anticipation of what’s about to come that if Brian touched him, he would astral project right out of his skin. 

The bedsheets rustle. 

Brian shifts on his side, facing Jae, pokes his cheek.

“Hey.” 

Jae follows suit, finds it refreshing to look into Brian’s eyes and let himself get lost in the shape of them, the exact color of them. He could count Brian’s eyelashes now if he wanted to. 

“Hey.” 

Brian slips a hand slowly under Jae’s sweater, cupping the small of Jae’s back softly, pulling him close--so close that the tips of their noses touch. So close that when Brian breathes, Jae can feel it on his lips. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” 

And with that, Brian brushes his nose against Jae’s, slowly bringing their lips together, sighing into a slow, tentative kiss. It all feels natural, to do this: Jae opening his mouth to let Brian in, to softly lick at each other’s tongues, to taste, to explore. It feels natural for Brian to let his teeth softly nip at Jae’s full lower lip, to scoot Jae closer until their legs are intertwined, until their bodies are pressing close urgently, as if wanting to be one. It feels like second nature for Jae to clutch at Brian’s love handles, to pull away from the kiss only to make his way down Brian’s neck--that neck he’s seen so many people go down, the track he’s longed for years to take. And it feels like the right thing for Brian to suck softly on the thin skin of Jae’s collarbones, to make his way up the lobe of Jae’s ears until he shudders, both of them coming back to the kiss with more fervor, both of them having waited for this for years. 

Both of them knowing this is only the start. 

Brian’s stomach grumbles, the sound loud against the slickness of kissing. 

Jae pulls away, eyes filled with concern. “Hungry?”

Brian frowns, lips forming a small pout. “I don’t need food, I just need to kiss you forever.” 

Jae grins, planting a small kiss on the corner of Brian’s mouth.

“We have all the time in the world. I believe you promised me some waffles?”


End file.
